


It Was a Chooseday

by Kiranokira



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Very Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, and His Very Amused Enabling Husband
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 19:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17772503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiranokira/pseuds/Kiranokira
Summary: Viktor and Yuuri are invited to participate in a sports-themed episode of Drunk History. Watch as heavily inebriated Katsuki Yuuri earnestly attempts to tell a story about his hero, Viktor Nikiforov, while he cuddles his husband, Viktor Nikiforov.





	It Was a Chooseday

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching a bunch of Drunk History recently, so of course this happened. Happy Valentine's Day!

“It w-was a Chooseday. Tuesday!”

The sake cup in Yuuri’s hand shakes and empties half of its contents onto the floor while Yuuri drops his head back against the sofa and laughs for seven solid seconds.

Viktor takes this as an opportunity to lift the cup from Yuuri’s fingers, smiling as he hands it to the nearest crew member. Until now, they’ve been using Yuuri’s lapses to refill the cup, but Viktor’s pretty sure they’ve reached the end of the drinking, and soon, hopefully, the story as well.

He’s delighted that they decided to do this, and even more delighted that someone else is in charge of filming his soft sloshed sweetheart from multiple angles. Yuuri was skeptical about accepting an invitation to a show where people get drunk and try to tell linear stories from history, but Viktor made a bet with Chris that he could give a soberer episode than Chris’s, and Yuuri agreed to watch and help Viktor stay on track. And now it’s Yuuri who’s ended up being the star of the episode instead.

Viktor suspects they have about five minutes left before Yuuri decides to chuck English and revert to Japanese for the rest of his story about the first original music piece Viktor commissioned for one of his programs.

“So then,” Yuuri says to the ceiling, “then, then, then, zen zen—people think Zen’z is…Japaneeeese.” When no one answers him, and the host of the show on the armchair opposite them stifles a chuckle, Yuuri lifts his head and gives Viktor an earnest, wide-eyed look. “Vitya, they think ZEN is JAPAN.”

Viktor nods and reaches out to trace the slope of Yuuri's nose. “That’s terrible.”

“Yes it’s te—no. It’s. No! It’s not!”

Viktor nods. “No, it’s not.”

The host is really struggling now.

Behind one of the cameras, someone makes a “keep going” gesture and Viktor resumes his job of prodding Yuuri to keep telling the story. It’s technically the host’s job, but about ten minutes ago Yuuri stood up in the middle of a sentence and dragged Viktor from off camera back to the couch where he’s been ever since. He’s been responding better to Viktor’s directions than to the host’s, and the host seems completely comfortable to move into more of an observer's role.

“Yuuri, what happened next?”

“Who?”

“You.”

“No, no. I know who. I meant what. English is—” Yuuri shakes his head with solemn incredulity.

Viktor presses his fist over his mouth to hide his smile because Yuuri’s already chided him twice for laughing. “Yes, English is.”

Yuuri gives him a suspicious frown. “Are you laughing again?”

Viktor collects himself in an instant and lowers his hand. “I would never, my love.”

Someone behind one of the cameras snorts, which sets off the person holding the boom mic as well as the host.

Yuuri, however, is satisfied with Viktor’s completely humorless face, and continues his story.

“It was a Tooooosday. T isn’t hard for Japanese. We have ‘ta’, and ‘te’, and ‘to’, but we don’t have…‘tu’—we have _‘tsu’_ but lots of people can’t say it. When I was in Detroit— _naaaan ne_ Viktor!” The next sentence is ornery-sounding Japanese, and the word “laugh” is probably somewhere in there because Viktor’s definitely lost his composure a little bit.

He sympathizes a little with whoever’s going to get tasked with finding someone to piece together even partially coherent English subtitles from Yuuri’s adorable Kyushu gibberish.

When Viktor assures Yuuri he isn’t laughing (“but you _were_ ” “yes, and I’m sorry” “good”) Yuuri agrees to finish telling the story. But only if he can snuggle against Viktor’s sweater while he tells it.

Yuuri orchestrates the whole pose with impressive dexterity considering how drunk he is, guiding one of Viktor’s arms around his chest and the other around his waist. “Okay,” he says, tucking his head under Viktor’s chin and full-on cuddling him. He’s going to be mortified when this airs, and Viktor is going to spread it far and wide across all the lands with Phichit’s assistance.

“Ready?” the host asks.

Yuuri nods, and Viktor can see in one of the camera monitors that Yuuri’s eyes are closed and he’s beaming. “Ready.”

Viktor is sure he himself is melting, but he doesn’t check the monitor to confirm.

“It was a Tuesday,” Viktor says, squeezing Yuuri’s waist.

“Nnnnnm, yeah, it was a Tuesday. No!”

“No?”

“It was a _Wed_ —a Wednus…Wezna…Wuz…”

“You’re getting further away,” Viktor tells him.

“No, ‘m right here.” He says it with a happy smile and a bright, sunny voice. “With my Vitya.”

The cameraperson who snorted earlier says, “This is fuckin’ adorable,” in a low tone that has several other crew people nodding.

“So it was Wednesday,” Viktor says.

“Mmmm. And Vitya, you took this piece, you took it to _Yakov Coach_ —you know him.”

“We have met, yes.”

“And you said, ‘This is my feeling in music, and now it will be a…history music.’”

“Verbatim. I was there.”

Yuuri’s maybe going to be annoyed with him for playing along like this when he sees the footage later, but it’s far too entertaining for him to stop now. That’s a problem for Future Viktor.

“And I _watched_ it, Vitya. I did. I watched you skate with that music and I _cried_.”

Viktor tries to angle his head far enough back to see Yuuri’s face and slightly manages. “You did?”

“I did what?”

“Cried.”

“Sometimes I cry. A lot of sometimeses.”

“Did you cry when you watched me skate to that original music for the first time?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Viktor says. He notices Yuuri’s hair becoming a bit disheveled in the monitor and pets it back to rights. Yuuri takes that as a cue to rub his head into Viktor’s hand and yawn.

“Can I sleep on the floor?”

“No, you have to finish your story.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t say how everyone else reacted.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Yuuri tips his head back and regards Viktor very seriously. “Hello.”

That ends up being the last shot of the episode, and sure enough, Yuuri isn’t overjoyed with the final product two weeks later.

“Vik _tor!_ ”

“Yes, my treasure?”

“You said _you_ did most of the talking!”

“Technically I did.”

Yuuri takes Viktor’s tablet out of his hands and grimaces at the tableau of the two of them cuddled up on the set couch giving each other soft, affectionate smiles.

Viktor waits.

Yuuri takes a screenshot and opens their chat app. If Viktor lets out a snicker, Yuuri doesn’t acknowledge it while he sends the image to himself, so it basically didn’t happen.

“You lost your bet with Chris.”

“I did not. I was mostly sober.”

“Your bet was about the episode.”

“…Ah.”

Yuuri smirks and kisses his cheek. “Serves you right,” he says, and pushes off their bed with Makkachin on his heels.

Well.

So what if Chris gets to choose his exhibition piece. It’ll be fine.

He’s sure Yuuri’ll enjoy the result as much as he’s enjoyed Yuuri’s viral episode of Drunk History.

**Author's Note:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/hadakanomind)


End file.
